


(GLITCHTALE) One Wednesday Night (Sans' Death)

by Nazareth_Rose



Category: Camila Cuevas, Glitchtale - Fandom, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: blood warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 19:27:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16793287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nazareth_Rose/pseuds/Nazareth_Rose
Summary: Summary: This retells the events of “Dust” from Glitchtale. Monsters have appeared on the Surface for the past month, and Betty has a surprise for her dear friends Sans and Asriel… a surprise that one of them will pay very, very dearly for.





	(GLITCHTALE) One Wednesday Night (Sans' Death)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! Since this is a very important time for me, I took a break from “Filius Patris” and instead wrote this scene. I am a very avid Glitchtale fan, even more so than Deltarune, in fact. This scene has been rolling around my head for years, and I’m finally happy to get my own interpretation of this on paper. Here it is…

The breeze that blew through the building, constant, man-made, sent a chill down the two childrens’ shoulders. The computer monitors stung Asriel’s eyes, the tears pouring, seething. The posters rang out blaring alarms, cursing and deriding the monsters, Sans’ and Asriel’s very nature, and Sans, his volatile mind inflamed, crumpled one of them. Asriel saw the poor poster plunging to its doom in the trashcan, but if he protested at all, Sans didn’t hear him.   
Sickening. Throbbing. Encroaching. Claustrophilic. This was exactly how the two boys expected the Anti- Monster Department to be.   
They were both the same height as they moved towards each other, feet shuffling in an unconscious drumbeat, but only their voices gave them away. Asriel had turned nine that week, a lone piece of his birthday cake still crusting on his sweater. Sans was finally, finally, of driving age, of voting age, of smoking age, not quite old enough to leave the confines of his home, yet not quite young enough to be as optimistic as Asriel hoped him to be.   
“This is it, right?” Asriel asked, clued in by each and every camera view calling to him, each a view of monotony and travail, a crumb of hope in boredom’s pail.   
“You’ve got it, bud.” Sans’ fingers, ivory piano- keys, flew, the magic streaming out of his brain, knowledge of strings and embedded code, the esoteric language of computers, gliding, darting, streaking to the computer screen.   
Asriel wasn’t so sure. Then again, he wasn’t so sure of a plethora of things. He was famous for that in his family, having been admitted to more than a few therapists. The cracks, the hidden pockets and vacuoles of life, trapped him in places where most people ignored. Shuddering just a little, hidden from the only mangnanimous friend he’d known since they’d come up to the Surface, he turned back to the cameras, the only source of surety.  
The surety flowed from every cavern, every crack, until there was one second when a puppeteer, invisible, grasped one of Sans’ fingers. The breeze cut off through the Anti- Monster Department, and time itself hushed. His finger hung in midair. Asriel eyes turned towards the camera, of Chara and his shield, vanguarding against nothing.  
Asriel’s mind turned towards the girl standing there in pink and purple clothing, smiling, sniding in delight.   
The scream started in the recesses of Asriel’s consciousness, echoing, unceasing, unrelenting. It collapsed to its knees in terror, held under a witch’s spell. It turned into a zombie of a banshee, tormented and forever controlled, screaming, screaming, screaming…  
A girl stood behind them in pink and purple clothing, smiling, sniding in delight.  
There was no preamble, no chance for words. No room for words as the cohort of humans and monsters stood stock- still, stare- silent in the camera room, the only whisper coming from the whine of the camera monitors. The finality, the betrayal punched into them all, a knife in their stomachs, twisting, twisting, cold. As if the breeze had started again, a chill ran through Jessica. Even more chilled as her hand pressed on the trigger, as the blood poured down her finger and ran cold in her veins, reached out, latched onto Sans.   
He fell in a horrible lightning- dance, singed, collapsed. He could taste singed fury, could taste the dirt on the ground, charred ever so slightly. He could taste the pain, smell it. He curled up, his hands latching onto his knees. Shuddering. Shuddering.   
Betty’s smile twisted, its edges nothing less than the edge of a snake, serpentine, searching. Akumu was the first one to make any noise, humming a high- pitched whine in anticipation, in delight. Her tongue stuck in the corner of her mouth, just a little, a compulsion of her expectancy.   
“I was going to tell you all the surprise…”   
A javelin formed in her hand, and the breeze blew again. Even colder, the javelin was a vessel of ice, a chamber of delight. A chamber of agony, a twist of the knife.   
It had been a minute, and Sans was still prone on the floor, seething, writhing, fighting against the electricity’s “NO” to his powers. He whispered a “yes”, the word leaving his lips in a painful, heavy, trodding thud, and he lifted his leg off of the ground. It shook, and he very nearly toppled, but he smiled still. The other, and the wall was his only supporter- Asriel? Asriel, where was he? His dear friend? Asriel?   
Asriel wasn’t the prince he had always known in his mind, the friend he had always known in his soul. He wasn’t any of those anymore. His eyes had turned magenta, blood- steeped ballet slippers, bullets. He was limp, nothing more than a babe in flight, the peaks of his toes just losing their touch with the floor.   
Sans winced. He winced again. But the hurting, the burning had fled him ever since he’d seen Asriel, Asriel, oh, dear God, Asriel, and another hellfire took over. Flinching at the javelin, he felt an opaque layer of shame casting over him. This shouldn't be something he should be thinking over. It shouldn't. It should be instantaneous.  
With another wince, with one pernicious tear running down his cheek, he teleported.   
Betty let the javelin become a falcon in flight. The hellfire punched at his chest first.  
The last of the air escaped before it was stopped, choked. The javelin was a proud falcon now, its head burrowed into his chest as a nest. He had to breathe soon. He had to breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathing was so exhausting...he was ready. Ready to rest now. His chest begged him to rest. Burning. Burning. Punching, tightening. The light in Betty's eyes brightened with delight.   
“... You really do know too much for your own good…”  
There was a twisting, and everything inside Sans lit afire. His blood vessels unlatched, consecrated themselves. His dread, his breath, caught in his throat. He wouldn't let himself scream. He couldn't. He couldn't. He couldn't… he… couldn't…  
Darkness came. What a merciful demon from the heights.  
…  
But not completely. The world funneled into a tunnel, a red kaleidoscope, but didn't slip out of his hands all the way. It wasn't Asriel that brought Sans back to reality. It was the thought of Asriel not being there to bring him back. It was the fluid flood of color and sound that brought him back, the clutch of sheer pain in his chest that brought forth an explosion of consciousness. Time was unchanged. Asriel was still suspended, still in midflight… Sans had to grab onto his knees, trembling, trembling, to sit, and then stand. He zipped up his coat. An instinct. It was already warming.  
As the green turned to Asriel's eyes, a tear trailed on the edges, hesitating, hesitating, a pearl on a blackened oyster's shell. Did he see? Oh, Sans hoped to whoever was up there, waiting for him, that he didn't see.   
“You alright, Sans?”  
He was a child, a little child, who couldn't endure as much as a small cut from a thumbtack. Besides, Sans had to be strong.  
“Yeah...yeah, I'm okay.” To smile, to smile through all the missiles exploding beneath him, to smile and to be the only one who had to bear his suffering. That's the way it always was. And if he had any say in it, that's what it would be for the next hour.  
The next hour. That was it? After all the resets, that was all he'd be given? And after-  
No. God, he was so selfish. He'd heard of people, just babies, who'd been dead before they were born. Eighteen years, much more than eighteen with the resets. That was enough, that was enough...  
Maybe he could go into an alley, and Asriel wouldn't be able to see. To allow his heart to give out all the red that it needed to, to allow his eyes to glaze over all that they needed to… Asriel wouldn't have to see a thing, not one thing…  
There was no sound, at least not yet. He was too busy with the ringing, the constant, precarious ringing. But he could see the blur, the pink demon stretching out towards him, the rainbow fire that launched towards it, sated its urge...  
“...c'mon, c'MON! Let's get outta here!”  
Each step was a cinder block, hidden from green eyes. But nobody could see. Nobody could know. At least not yet, for each step was one more moment where Asriel was alright. One more moment that he was happy. One more moment. And then another. And then another. Another. Another. Another. One...more…  
He landed in a not- quite rain puddle, hands shaking, muscles trembling, trembling, not responding. No. No. He had to be strong. Innocence had to last. Asriel had to be alright.   
His face hit the sidewalk, tasting the rain puddle now. Copper.   
He shuddered, pulled himself closer. He was so cold. It had snowed all that week, and the northern winds were supposed to be furious throughout that month. But he was so cold. It was like in the movies, when the troupe was traveling in the Arctic, when one of the members fell, so cold, so cold, and fell asleep, so cold…  
He felt a kick at the back of his leg, ending with cursing and “monster”.  
He was so cold.   
He didn’t know Asriel was there until he felt himself floating. Flying in the sky, a bird in flight. He was always so interested in birds and the stars that became the background at night. Birds had an uncanny ability that humans and monsters, with their stupid, mammalian intellect, couldn’t think of for themselves. He was always interested in the stars, and could name every one of them, drawing them if he was looking away. He could tell stories and myths about them, lasting hours and hours…  
He came to rest on Asriel’s arm. More rain came down on his face. It must be storming now. But his taste betrayed him again, tasting saltwater instead.   
Sound was one of his betrayers, too. Leaving him, coming back again. “... what did she do to you, we need to… God, we need to call someone, a hospital, anyone….” “...ma’am, I’m in front of a bakery, and please, please get here fast…”  
The saltwater careened into his face. The darkness, the demon of thorns, was coming back again. But this time, it was an angel, carrying with it a lantern. Not now. Not yet. Maybe a minute, and he would rest. Not now.  
Not yet.   
His right hand was an alien, some sort of red, devilish, diabolical thing. He put it on Asriel’s shoulder, hitting his arm instead, but being brought to his shoulder by Asriel. Dear. Asriel. What type of world had Sans thrust him into?  
He tried speaking. His chest told him no. He rebelled, and it ended with a cough from deep in his core, a spray of red, and the rain puddle getting bigger. There was no sound, but Asriel’s mouth had stopped moving.   
The lantern called his name. He told it not to yet.  
Not yet.  
“Azzie.”  
Asriel stopped. Everything in him stopped before he put the phone down. “Yeah? I’m here, bud, tell me anything.”  
Sans almost tried to laugh. This world didn’t belong to Asriel, and if the puddle was anything, the world didn’t belong to Sans, either.   
But there was one thing that could. One thing. One more inheritance he could give to him.  
“Stars…”  
“Yeah, Sans, that’s right. The stars are out tonight. Bright, aren’t they?”  
The phone jabbered, but it jabbered to empty air and empty space.   
“There’s Cassiopeia…” his hand trembled, pointing to what looked like a void, a random space, to Asriel. “And there’s Orion… right over there…”  
“That’s right.” A crowd had formed around them, but the two of them were landlocked in that sea of gawking. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”  
“Beautiful…” The lantern was calling his name, the cold even more fiercely piercing him now. Ever deeper than a javelin ever could. Exhausted. Ready to rest.  
He put a hand on the lantern, and the lantern lead him to warmth.


End file.
